Suspicions
by PrincessRachael
Summary: Shortly after Return of the Jedi, Han and Leia explore their growing relationship.
1. Chapter 1

Suspicions

RachaelPrincess

**CHAPTER ONE**

**PART I**

"Your Highness, we're starting our approach."

"Thank you Captain." Princess Leia released the intercom button, surveying her belongings in the small cabin. The Kleeque-class transport provided its occupants with small, but comfortable rooms. Leia barely noticed. Hyperspace travel and constant motion had been draining, especially when her temporary livelihood was contained in one solitary pack. The grime and dust of Coruscant still clung to her skin like lucid powder, making her yearn for a fresher.

The mission had been surprisingly successful, albeit lengthy. After the Rebellion's victory against the Empire at Endor it had been critical for representatives to be sent immediately to Coruscant's capital city to discuss the reformation of the new Republic. Mon Mothma was in the process of organizing the transfer of the Alliance base off Endor and relocating permanently to Coruscant. A temporary interim council - mostly self-appointed – had been hastily assembled and Leia worried if the Alliance did not move quickly, the entire organization risked falling into chaos and corruption.

The trip had taken a full standard month. It had thrilled her to see overturned statues of the emperor, streets cleaned of Storm Troopers and remnants of the old senate building starting to take shape. Her heart beat proudly to see her long awaited dreams, her father's heritage, reborn. All members of the Rebellion were looking forward to an era of peace, a rewarding freedom to find lost relatives and family. Days of running, ongoing movement and secrecy appeared over.

Leia appraised her reflection in a bronze hand mirror, frowning at the results. The khaki cargo pants were Alliance issue and did nothing to enhance her figure. She had splurged what small credit she had on Coruscant for a few feminine, soft fabrics, reminding her of days before the war. The white shirt hugged her frame, tying at her waist, the long sleeves draping to her knuckles. Her hair was braided loosely above her crown, roping thick curls to cascade from a knot at the back. She could not stop the heavy anticipatory beats of her heart. She had sorely missed Han.

Fate had granted them only a handful of days in-between the victory celebration on Endor and her departure. They had tried to savor the brief moments, soaking them in as they stretched under the lazy morning skylights in the _Falcon_. Han had taken her, entered her with immeasurable tenderness and gentle distractions, wanting to learn every line and bow of her body. She had followed hungry for his touch, his mouth, his comfort.

There was a honeymooning aspect to their lingering, though there was no discussion of forthcoming plans. One afternoon the pair had secreted away on an Imperial speeder. Han had discovered the location points to a waterfall haven, and they had spent the afternoon munching on cold slices of meat and cheese with fresh courgettes on thick, crusted bread and a basket of red plumes. Together they explored the hidden pleasures of rushing water. He became fascinated at how beautiful her hair looked webbed across the silvery surface. Afterwards he explored the rocky cliffs while she slept curled up on a blanket, naked in the sun. She felt guilty upon their return and then startled to realize nobody had noticed their absence.

The old transport dove into Endor's atmosphere. Leia glanced at her watch. It was nightfall. Within minutes the ship descended sharply onto a modest platform with faint, white lights. It was a temporary landing strip, designed with considerable haste to accommodate the increasing arrival of Rebel ships. Han had been one of the leads in formulating the structure.

At the end of the darkened ramp, she suddenly felt unnervingly exposed. The biting cool air, the dizziness of solid ground combined with too much straining of her neck, scanning corners and hallways. _Where is he?_ With each passing moment of solitude her heart sank further into a clouded despair. Perhaps she had taken for granted her assumptions of mutual longing. She recalled with perfect clarity sending him the time of her arrival. Panic spun through her chest, what if the _Falcon_ was gone?

The sound of someone clearing his throat sent waves of ecstasy through her. She knew, even before she saw the open doorway, light streaming forth highlighting a tall, broad figure leaning casually against the frame, arms crossed at his chest. She sensed the familiar grin, his penetrating gaze, feeling as though a small ache inside her was lifting.

Han moved towards her, his lazy stride slightly quicker than normal. He felt ridiculously light-headed, as if he were re-living his worn, faded dream. Then she was caught up into his arms, hands tight around his upper arms, cheek buried against his collar and he was half lifting her, half cradling her closer to his body.

"Leia." His voice thick and deep.

He smelled like the _Falcon_, with evidence of a recent fresher. The aroma of soap and partially wet hair were slick against her fingers. His clothes felt mildly stiff with the texture of folded creases. Her heart soared at the thought of him devoting time to his appearance before meeting her. She warmed her cheeks and nose against the solid bulk of his chest, nuzzling and craning on her toes until she found his neck.

One of Han's arms kept its strong hold around her back, cupping her hip in his hand. His other cradled her face, stroking up into her hair. "You look beautiful."

It was on the tip of her tongue to reply, _you too_; her mind so fuzzy and heated from the adrenaline pumping through her system. But she simply smiled, throwing away any masks of indifference and basked in his compliments. Her mouth found his chin, his scar, slow small kisses edging closer and closer to his mouth. "I missed you."

He was not a patient man. Pulling her tight he whispered, "Love you" before assaulting her mouth with his own.

Leia opened her lips to the heat Han offered, mingling her breath with his. The kiss was tender, sincere, betraying the longing each one had felt for the other. But the nearby presence of pilots and greeting parties suddenly made her feel self conscious. She reluctantly steeped back and leaned down to grab her pack, but he scooped it up before she could protest.

"Where's Luke?"

"He decided to stay. He became obsessed with finding out the details of the last Jedi temple. He was even talking about reconstruction when I left."

"That will keep him busy. Is he…better since Vader's death?"

She paused, the pain of several arguments with her brother visible on her face. "He still mourns him. He still believes his soul has been…redeemed. And he doesn't fault him for anything." Her tone rose slightly with each word. "Can you believe he's actually forgiven him?"

"What about you?"

She came out of her trance, momentarily startled, and then resigned. "I'm just grateful to be back with you is all."

He caught up her right hand up and kissed her palm. Leia smoothed her fingers over his face, up into his hair. She found her growing dependence on Han both frightening and intoxicating. His open acceptance, his candor and wit, his ability to comprehend her darkest secret and still love her meant the galaxy to her.

The pair turned as a man in a dark robe approached, shaped in midnight black and burnished copper with a dangerous, subtle smile. There was a savage roughness to his handsome looks. His smooth gait exuded confidence and ease. He rivaled Han in height, but appeared slightly younger with a mass of dark curls, smoky green eyes with an outward affable, though serious disposition.

Leia steeped back from Han as he approached. "Soren, may I present General Han Solo. Han, this is Lord Soren Eifler. His mother, Silya Shessaun worked closely with my own mother during her term as Minister of Education on Alderaan."

Han glanced quickly at Leia before extending his hand, "Call me Han."

He grasped Han's hand with a hardy shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you General Solo. Your reputation precedes you. I've heard much about you and your stunning victory over the Empire."

"What brings you to Endor?"

"I'm here on behalf of the new High Council, and Her Highness's good favor."

"Excuse me?"

Leia jumped in. "Han, Soren now serves as the honorary senior senator for Alderaan and is a member of the High Council. He has been recruited to assist in the plans for organizing the New Republic."

At his questionable stare, Soren elaborated. "I assure you Her Highness exaggerates my position. It's merely the forming of diplomats designed to increase the bureaucratic nonsense that will slow the whole process down." He glanced at Leia. "Just like our early days together in the Senate, wouldn't you agree?"

She nodded warmly, thinking back. "Yes, although I had hoped the new High Council would meet all my unsophisticated aspirations."

"Never fear. With the two of us working together again, perhaps we can change all that."

Han cut in abruptly. "So your family knew Leia's parents?"

"Yes, my own excellent mother had the good fortune of working with Lady Breha. I wish you could have known her General Solo. She was truly the best of women." He paused. "And her daughter will be just like her."

Only Han understood Leia's quiet smile and tactful nod. Her silent wrestling with finding herself, her identity, her purpose left her unsettled to the random - though well intended - compliments paid to characteristics between herself and the royal family. His hand itched to take Leia's but he hesitated to draw any attention to her unease.

Oblivious to any discomfort, Soren gestured towards Han's blaster. "Pardon me for asking General Solo, but is that a DL-44 blaster you're carrying?"

He unleashed the weapon and offered it to him. "Never without it."

Soren turned the piece over in his hand, inspecting the abrasions. "A great weapon. I carry one of my own." He pulled aside his robe, revealing the shiny, chrome blaster secured to his waist.

Han's eyes went wide. "But that's a – "

"Yes, a DL-55." He presented it to Han who eagerly inspected the layout. "I find the new model has a smoother release and a faster slide than its previous counterpart."

"Not bad."

A silver-faced droid approached, carrying several packs over his arms. He spoke in muted, Alderaanian tones to Soren. Leia glanced at Han and he took the hint.

"Look, it's been swell, but I'm afraid that we – "

"Oh, of course." Soren quickly spoke his commands to the droid and turned back to the pair. "It's been a pleasure to make your acquaintance General Solo. Leia, until tomorrow."

Their privacy once again restored, Leia was surprised to find Han's shoulders slightly slumped and a dejected look of longing across his face. He was still watching Soren's figure walking off the landing platform.

"What's wrong?"

"I'd heard from a friend there was a new DL model on the market. I had no idea…"

"But…would you honestly give up your old blaster? I thought you'd had it for ages."

"Yeah, but did you see that one? Mine is so rough and raw after you see that one."

She was so delightfully amused at his sense of awe she playfully whispered in his ear. "But I like you rough and raw."

He turned back to look at the princess. "And old? What about old?"

"I like to think of it as…mature."

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her, bringing her back into his warmth. "More like antique."

She leaned in close, burying her nose into his neck. "I really did miss you."

"Me too. Wanna get out of here?"

"Got a place in mind?"

"As a matter of fact, it's right around the corner."

She looked into his eyes. "What a lucky coincidence. But does this mean I still haven't been assigned my own quarters yet?"

"Oh you were assigned one. I just told them you'd only need it on a temporary basis."

"Temporary?"

"Well there are some nights when Chewie just wants me all to himself."

"And tell me, oh mighty General, where is Chewie tonight?"

"Off with some Ewoks." He scratched his head, "Those fur balls have more in common than I originally thought."

A wicked grin spread over Leia. She traced a lazy finger in descending circles over his chest. "Did he ask you to wait up?"

"He won't be back tonight."

"Really?" Her smile was infectious.

"Really." He grabbed her hand and started pulling, "Come on. Let's go."

**PART II**

Several hours later, deep within the bowls of the _Falcon_, only one man heard the throaty, breathless cry of the princess echo through the cabin walls. Her head was thrown back, lips slightly parted. Her hair hung long over her waist, draping over his chest, tickling Han's hips as he moved. Her sighs descended in intensity as Han's own crescendo filled her body, her soul. Sliding back down, she mouthed her pleasure against his slick skin, "I love you."

"Stay. Stay with me tonight." His breathing deep.

"Yes…yes." She stretched her frame over his, flexing tissues and tendons, drawing tremors of pleasure from Han. "I love when you're inside me."

He grinned. "You do, huh?"

"Mmmhmm…and I love how you move inside and out."

He held her tight, rolling until he was on top. "Tell me what else you love."

"I loved that day before I left, when we were at the waterfall."

"I was thinking more along the lines of the physical."

"You usually are." She ran her fingertips up his shoulder, kissing his neck. "But we did some wonderful, physical things that day."

"The water? You liked that?"

"Very much." Her hands glided down his torso, feeling all the delicious weight of his body over hers, delighting in Han's sharp intake of breath and closed eyes, "You?"

"We need more days like that one." His mouth came down, kissing her softly, exploring the corners of her mouth with his tongue. Her hands guided him closer, rubbing him against soft folds. He bit out sharply, almost demanding. "Again. I need you, again."

She smiled, wrapping his body close as he assaulted her lower neck, her collarbone with open mouth kisses. "I would love that."

**PART III**

"Gentlemen, I think we need to come to a right understanding amongst ourselves. The move to Coruscant will not be easy." When the background discussions came to a pause, General Madine continued. "Which is why the Council has sent back Lord Soren Eifler to assist with negotiations."

A Kesselian major jumped to his feet, "How can we trust them? They've never helped us in the past."

"Perhaps this is a good time to ask. Lord Eifler, will you please address us?"

Soren bowed and stood to face the Rebel commanders. Forty to fifty individuals, of all various species and lifeforms had assembled in the central briefing room to hear the relocation plans. Most felt an odd sense of deja-vu except the emperor was now dead and they were not aboard the Star Cruiser. This time the meeting was held in a rapidly assembled bunker, economically similar to the other dozens of structures hastily set up to accommodate the needs of the Alliance.

"Thank you General Madine. Before I begin, I would like to express my gratitude for the generous welcome I've received since arriving. Not the least of which has been my renewed acquaintance with Her Highness, Princess Leia." He moved with a slight bow towards the princess.

"She is a model for the Alliance! Your symbol of darker days and yet a triumph for what has been achieved. Were it not for the determined efforts of individuals such as the princess and the excellent commanders I see about me this morning, I do not believe for one moment we would be standing here today. You are all a credit to your individual nations, your people!"

Applause erupted in the room, several people rising with ovations. Leia was sitting towards the back next to Han and Chewie. At the unexpected recognition, she blushed slightly and nodded in acknowledgement to the several dozen heads that turned towards her. Han looked at Chewie and rolled his eyes.

Soren continued, his deep voice and tall stature commanded all eyes upon him. "I know some of you are hesitant in your plans to relocate to Coruscant. Make no mistake about it, we are completely behind you. You have nothing to fear from us. Yes, we were not behind you during your most critical hour but that was only because of the great personal threat and fear the Empire made on our lives."

A hush settled over the crowd. Rumors of resistance outside the Empire had always been discussed but never realized. Some feared their early hopes for peace might have been presumptuous.

"We will proceed with determination and caution." Soren activated the projector holograph that outlined six separate fields. His green eyes glowed. "I have divided all major obstacles into the various clusters shown. We will now divide into groups of ten and outline proposed strategies to be presented later today. Each group has a team captain and the necessary codes from this presentation. I look forward to hearing from you."

Applause again echoed off the paneled walls as the entire room shifted and grouped into smaller formations. Several of the high ranking generals and admirals, including Han and Leia made their way towards Soren.

Madine extended his hand. "We appreciate you taking the time to organize our movement to Coruscant. But I was concerned that some crucial points might have been overlooked, such as merging with the interim High Council."

Soren waved the issue aside. "An excellent observation, General Madine. I had thought those types of concerns might be tabled for a few days until I can understand the full extent of the Alliance operations at present."

"If that is what you need before you can proceed." Madine looked skeptical but resolved. "Any of us would be happy to assist."

"Thank you. In the meantime, we have a small situation that needs some attention.

Mon Mothma stepped forward, "Please elaborate Lord Eifler."

"There are several mercenaries claiming financial debts with the emperor. It appears these unquestionable smugglers helped route illegal cargo at considerable expense for the Empire and now they are demanding compensation from the High Council."

"Their claim on the emperor can no longer be valid." Madine's voice was firm. "They know the current situation. All former contracts are now null and void."

"You and I think along the same lines General, but these people link their contracts to the regional governors, not necessarily the emperor. With the emperor gone, they will press their demands on the ruling republic."

Now Leia came forward. "And if we refuse?"

Han sighed, not necessarily wanting to be part of the conversation. "They'll make life hell for us."

Soren rubbed a hand through his dark curls. "Yes, as General Solo has so adequately phrased it, they will make our relocation plans to Coruscant difficult, to say the least."

"But how difficult? What exactly are you anticipating?" Madine started calculating details through his head.

"Really, it's hard to say. Remember these are smugglers. Who knows what they have in mind. Hostage situations, executions, kidnapping, the list goes on."

Leia could sense Han's irritated disgust. His past had always been as shrouded as M'uhk'gfa armor. But she fully understood his disenchantment with aristocracy characterizing groups of people – even occupations – they knew so little about. She was a bit taken back when Han spoke.

"I think you're jumping to conclusions Lord Eifler. This group of mercenaries might be challenging, but they are not above negotiations. They are simply businessmen wanting to be paid for a job they were probably coerced into taking."

Soren's eyes lit up. "Of course, I completely forgot. You've had experience dealing with these individuals before, haven't you?"

Commander Willard stepped forward, "General Solo used to be a smuggler himself before he joined the Alliance. In fact he and Luke Skywalker were working together when they saved Princess Leia."

Leia blanched, aghast that people were still ignorant of the facts, "Actually, that's not how – "

"What a stroke of good luck, don't you think?" Soren turned to indicate the entire circle. "Tell us how you would negotiate with them."

A streak of dread laced through Han. He suddenly knew where this was going.

Tactfully stepping back, he placed his hands on his hips, his tone unassuming. "I think they need to understand that as citizens of the New Republic they will have an invaluable position. It's a risky offer, but we could bargain what future needs the council will require and pay them when the time arrives. They will know in the meantime their jobs are secured."

Mon Mothma looked slightly alarmed, "But do we really want to commit with such a group? How would our loyalties appear to more respectable parties?

This time Leia cringed. It was common knowledge the Alliance had relied on smugglers in the past, especially when they took pity on their cause. Everyone knew they had a reputation for being brazen, apathetic, even dangerous, but Leia had fallen in love with one of them. And even before she had recognized her own feelings, she was already acknowledging Han's honor and decency. All mercenaries could not possibly be clotted into the same contemptible group Mothma was implying.

_The broken generator's pale hiss did nothing to enhance Han's mood as he tightened the flat screw around the replaced panel. The air was hot and muggy, the Alliance almost reeked with sweat over the lack of cool air and fresh water. Han leaned back and accepted the offered bottle of Kalec from Leia._

"_Han, were you ever offered jobs through the Empire?"_

_He looked up. "Where did this come from? Been talking to some other smuggler besides me?"_

_She didn't mention that a few generals had expressed skepticism over hiring Han and Chewie because of potential established ties with the Empire. The worst part was the willingness she had felt to defend him, in spite of her lack of concrete proof. _

_So she lied. "I heard some pilots talking near the command center. They said there wasn't a smuggler alive who hadn't been asked to work for the Empire." _

_Han seemed to buy it. "Well, it wasn't necessarily a request, more like a demand."_

"_How did you get out of it?"_

"_I didn't."_

"_You smuggled for the Empire!" How would she defend him now? _

"_One time. Nothing much, just some laser components for a job on Ischar. I got stranded on Tatooine, started doing jobs for the hut lords. It's much nicer working for someone who actually pays you." He winked at her. "None of this freebie stuff I do around here." _

"_At least we're not sending people to kill you."_

"_I thought that was your job." _

_He laughed when she glared at him. Catching up a spanner in his right hand he turned back to the broken generator. "Yeah, but with the Empire it was always risky. Never knew if they were going to kill you or confiscate everything on you – including your ship – leaving you for dead on some random planet."_

Admiral Ackbar's spoke a measure of reassurance, his webbed hand on Mon Mothma's shoulder. "We have worked with all sorts of species, races and nations. And we have maintained our belief that it is all for the good of the New Republic. General Solo is correct. It is our hope that these individuals will be contributing members to the galaxy."

Han looked pessimistic, but Soren appeared ecstatic. "It sounds ideal. I recommend to the Alliance that a team be sent immediately to negotiate with the mercenaries."

Madine looked doubtful. "But with so many? Do you know where they are? Or if a single person speaks for the entire group?"

"We have their location, yes. And for the moment the group has elected a leader who is willing to negotiate."

"Well then, I think General Solo would be most fit for such a mission."

A Bestinian commander spoke up. "I second the motion."

Shouts arose from the small circle. "Hear, hear!"

Leia felt herself beaming, in spite of the twist of loneliness inside her. She was thrilled Han was considered for such a crucial mission that would impact the entire Alliance.

_Too late_, Han thought inwardly. Mon Mothma walked towards him. "General Solo we would be pleased if you would accept such a mission. It would help guarantee the safety of everyone in the Rebellion."

His shoulders heaved and he was momentarily startled to catch a look of triumph pass briefly over Soren's face. _I've got a bad feeling about this_. He stood, towering a good foot over Mon Mothma. "When do you need me to leave?"

Soren spoke quickly. "As soon as possible."

He nodded. "Fine. Where am I headed?"

"Their headquarters are located in the Sacorrian system, the third moon off Rancor. There is a small colony where – "

"I know where that is."

"Obviously you're prepared. I'll transmit the plans to your ship."

Leia turned to Han as the group dissolved, her face joyful. "Han this is wonderful! I…it's so good of you….I can't believe you volunteered."

He shrugged her off, indignant when he saw her frown. "I don't think that was voluntary." Motioning to Chewie, he hastily made his way from the briefing room, never pausing to look back.

**PART IV**

The aura of the _Falcon_ was different this time. Along with the disorder, the smell of grease, the crates of supplies, Leia could sense stress and Han's extreme unease. It had taken her completely off guard, this apparent sullenness in him. She found him in the center of the engine room, pressing together a pair of threaded pipes over the buzz of a clamp.

"You're not really keen on going?"

"What?"

She raised her voice. "You're trying to get out of this, aren't you?"

"No. I'd _like_ to get out of this. I'd hardly lift a finger if I didn't expect to win." He yelled in the direction of the cargo hold. "Chewie! Where's the plaxar cable?"

The Wookiee's reply was drowned out over Leia's. "But, why?"

"Why?" He turned off the machine and vaulted down the hallway. "Because I don't want to go. Chewie, I'll check up front."

She followed. "When you joined the Alliance, when they made you a General, did you see anything beyond your first assignment?"

"Huh? No, this has nothing to do with that." He bent down on one knee and began a messy business of tossing flimsies and record logs, digging further into a back shelf.

"Then what is it?"

"Ah…there it is." He sat back on his hips, completely absorbed in the fibers.

She closed her eyes for patience. "Can you just talk to me for a few minutes?"

"Sure. Shoot." He kept his attention on the wiring.

She dropped to the floor in front of him, resting her palms against the cold planks. "Tell me what's wrong."

Finally he paused and lifted his eyes to meet hers. "It's nothing. I can't really explain it. It's just a hunch is all."

"Are you sure?"

He pushed a large breath of air through pursed lips. "Tell you what." He scooted to the exposed panel under the coolant system, disappearing underneath. "Why don't _you_ tell me what _you_ think is bothering me. We'll save more time."

Chewie chose that precise moment to stomp into the cock pit, a bolt driver clutched in his right paw. Han emerged briefly to accept the tool. "I was just about to get that."

The humming buzz of the driver was irritating. Neither spoke again for several minutes. When the noise abated, he couldn't tell if she was still there. "What were we talking about again?"

"Your mission."

"Ah, yes…the mission. The one you can't wait to send me away on." His hand appeared at his belt, grabbing a wrench. "I thought you were really happy about all this?"

"I am. I just…I'd just like it if _you_ wanted to go."

"Why would I want to do that?"

She ignored him and came to her feet. "Let's just…forget this. But since I don't know when you're coming back." _or if…_ "I need to get some things out of your cabin."

She never saw him stick his head out to watch her retreating form, a slight frown spreading across his face.

Han was light years away from being categorized as obsessively clean, but he was not messy. His bed was folded, brushed down, closet doors shut, clothes hung up on hooks, even the fresher – in spite of its age – looked inviting to a woman. Bittersweet emotions flew through Leia as she glanced around the room. Everything felt wrong, too disinfected. She missed the warm, ruffled sheets of the previous night that were suddenly so cool and clean to her drifting fingertips. She longed for the disorder, the tarnished muddled scruff that Han sported when she awoke in his bed. But even in chaos there was no circumventing the incertitude she felt with him.

She was fingering through pieces of clothes and two pairs of boots when Han came into the room. He relaxed casually against the closet door, staring down at her.

"Can you explain to me how we're suddenly so upset with each other?"

In spite of his appeal, her pride would not slip. She stayed on the floor, keeping half her body buried in the closet.

"Come on." Sincerity threaded through his voice. He came down to her level. "Talk to me."

She softened, defenses crumbling slightly. Her forehead bent to his knee. "Maybe this is because I've been gone for so long already and you're suddenly leaving…"

He moved closer, his hands sliding along her face, fingering the braids at her scalp. "I think you should come with me. You're the negotiations expert."

"I wish I could. The Alliance is expecting my assistance with Coruscant. Soren thinks it would be a bad career move to leave right now."

He came to his feet, throwing his arms into the air, the dissipated tension flaring to life. "Oh good, follow his advice. That's just great."

"But I though you liked him."

"I don't trust him. For one thing, I think he's after you."

She arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure this isn't just blaster envy coming through again?"

"Trust me." He gave her a sidelong glance. "I have good instincts when it comes to this kind of thing."

"Mmmm…like with Luke?" She couldn't help smiling.

He waved his arms. "No, no. That was totally different. That was just…"

"Instinct?"

He shook his head. "It's just that people have said stuff."

"Like what?"

"It's nothing. You know, you just hear stuff about people and social status. After awhile you begin…sometimes…to think the same thing yourself."

She was on her feet in a flash. "Wait, wait. You've heard things about me? From who? What are they saying?"

"Like I said, it's nothing. Forget it."

"Obviously it's made an impact on you."

He sighed, realizing this was the second time in one day he was wishing he hadn't opened his mouth. "That maybe this Soren guy is meant for you."

She was too stricken to reply. Men of various planets and species had courted her for years before she joined the Rebellion. Some even managed to trickle through the relative obscurity the Alliance afforded and pursue her. They both knew this, expected it. It shocked her that Han actually believed it. "But…but…why…"

"Look, it's not a big deal. It's just that the war's over. You know, we all gotta start getting back to our normal lives eventually."

Was he actually suggesting…going back…leaving? She clamped her iron will around the harrowing ripping of what brief security she had felt with him. Her look was calm, unruffled, a perfect political façade. "I was not aware you felt this way."

"I think everyone feels this way."

"I guess so. And it looks like you're still taking care of number one."

"Sure, what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, it's what you're best at." Had this been coming all along? She could not think of a more base way to state the obvious. "Why did I ever believe in you?"

Now he was confused. "What? Where did that come from?"

"Like you said, it doesn't matter. You were headed that way eventually. Were you going to take off after finishing your mission, or before?"

"Taking off? What...wait, you mean you wouldn't care?"

"Obviously you don't. Why should I?"

He gazed in the distance, thinking back over his words. "When did I say I didn't care?"

"It was pretty obvious."

"But I didn't say it."

"No, but you meant it."

He bent his head, rubbing at the tense muscles along his neck. "You know, you've totally lost me. And I have stuff to do." He tossed a duffle bag in her direction as he exited the room. "Go pack your stuff. I won't be back for awhile."

Leia pulled an escaped curl into her braid, swallowing her panic. Great God! She had actually believed he was staying…forever. How foolish and naïve to have believed physical intimacies and girlish love could represent commitment. To a man like Han Solo. The boots, clothes, other personal effects were quickly shoved into the bag. Leia moved silently through the ship, conflicted on whether she wanted to see him one last time before she left.

Halfway down the ramp she got her chance.

"Leia stop." Han was not the sentimental sort, but he was aware he was very emotional now. "I think you didn't understand what I was saying back there. Trust me. You'll see I'm right about Soren."

She stiffened. "I think I got everything, even if you didn't say it. And what if _I'm_ right?"

His face darkened with annoyance. His hands tightened briefly on her upper arms, and then he was gone. She turned and walked briskly down the landing platform, steeled resolve fighting a tumultuous interior.

16


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER II**

**PART I**

Members of the Alliance council milled around the command center like krevols, busy bodies with white and silver suits that glistened in the rays of the skylights above. Leia sat quietly at her workstation amidst the chaos. The room felt stifling, her eyes showed signs of puffiness from the previous night, and her hands trembled slightly as she pressed forward with her report. She vaguely felt Soren approach from behind, jumping slightly at his touch.

"So is this what you do all day now? Lingering behind some screen while we covet you from afar?"

"If you say so. At one time my alias around here was Ice Princess."

"And have you melted since then?"

She evaded his question, giving him a weak smile.

He bent close to whisper. "Come on, let's get out of here. You don't want to be stuck in meetings all day. And I need someone to make sense of all this confidential Alliance stuff for me."

"Oh, but I –."

He jumped ahead. "Admiral Ackbar, would it be permissible to borrow Her Highness for the day? I believe her knowledge of Alliance concerns would be invaluable to my analysis."

She blanched, her mouth slightly agape as she watched Ackbar approach. The last minute details of her presentation at her fingertips.

"If you think Her Highness will be helpful in your study, of course she is available for you."

As he turned back, Leia jumped from her chair. "And my presentation at 1500?"

Ackbar waved a webbed hand towards her screen. "Is that not an abstract of your findings? Transmit them to the appropriate representatives and let them pursue it on their own time. That should suffice."

She stood there stunned, the stress of endless practicing and proofs now suddenly worthless. Soren was ignorant. He stood behind the princess with all the appearance of triumph washing through him.

She turned slowly. "Um…why don't I meet you at the south east entrance? Just give me a minute."

"Take all the time you need. I'll see you there." He looked back over his shoulder at the princess as he exited the room.

She gathered up her stacks and left through a back door, chagrin across her brow. How could they dismiss her so quickly? It did not help that her relationship with Han was making her feel vulnerable at the moment, nor the fact that she longed for him in spite of it. But to be so easily pushed aside from presenting on a crucial mission made the already looming headache inside her swell larger.

She had been nothing but loyal and devoted to the Rebellion. When she resigned for those brief months to rescue Han, she knew she was sacrificing a prominent career, even though there was abundant sympathy and support. Since returning, she had hoped to repair any damage her departure had caused. Obviously she still had more work in front of her than anticipated.

Entering a corner workstation, she slammed the disks onto the table and started typing data into the porting systems.

**PART II**

Han knew precisely where the smugglers hideaway was located, but it did not make the mission any more appealing. The 14 planets orbiting through the Sacorrian system were known for their dense atmospheric pressures trapping internal thermal radiation, making most of the moons uninhabitable. Eosphorus was the small exception, a wet, muggy planet with incredibly strong winds and thick jungles. The system was beyond general transport flight patterns. Anyone crazy enough to visit had to charter a private ship.

According to the _Falcon's_ logs, Han's last trip to Eosphorus had been five years ago. Back then he had brokered a deal to deliver several crates of Barkenal's spiced wine and roughly 250 bolts of expensive ramie. All good smugglers knew never to stay long on Eosphorus. The black market business was capricious by its own nature, but on Eosphorus you also risked radiation poisoning if your stay was unfortunately lengthened.

The _Falcon_ was still 14 hours away from its destination, and Han could not sleep. He was burning the hours stretched out in his pilot chair, bringing his boots to rest on Chewie's vacant seat. His furry, dependable co-pilot was sleeping in his hammock. Han was jealous. The linens on his bed, even the comforter carried her scent, keeping his thoughts in constant motion.

He stared blankly at the darkened windows. There were only so many things on the _Falcon_ he could fix, so many areas that could be restocked once, engine grime that would never come off, no matter how hard he scrubbed. It was a persistent pain in his gut, and now there was not enough to keep him busy in hyperspace to avoid thinking and feeling after Leia.

Taking into account his present circumstances, he was relieved he had not signed on indefinitely with the Alliance. He could always escape, contact old colleagues, make up for the credits he'd lost the past few years. Yes, some breathing space and personal indulgence, the tentacles of ease began seeping through him.

An image of Leia's face floated in front of him. Was she hurting after their argument? Was she worried?

He was definitely in over his head with this relationship. For years he had circled the waters, admired the color, tested the temperature, assessed its depths. And he had plunged – willingly – telling himself he'd find a sure footing. He hated to admit he had failed to judge the amount of time needed for proficiency with his princess…with himself. Regardless, he was now soaked. And yet, he was well aware if given another chance there was nothing he regretted.

Then his thoughts would circle around to Soren and his fists would tighten. It was not the thought of Soren himself, or any other individual for that matter. It was more the cohesive whole and what they all offered to Leia. If she rejected this one or that one, ten more waited in another system, ready and willing. How long would she refuse? How long would his luck last?

He believed in his princess, but possessions were most often singular in nature, and Han wanted this dependency to be requited, if she would have him. There lay his doubt.

As the hours dwindled by, one resolution brought comfort. He would never give up without a fight. As soon as this mission was complete, he would head back to Endor, or wherever she was stationed. He understood, even feared what the final outcome would mean. But this mutual mistrust, these ridiculous shared suspicions would end once and for all. Han would wrestle with anyone who tried to take what was his.

If she was his.

**PART III**

The Rebel base on Endor, as well as adjoining and distant territories loosely yet explored by the Alliance, had been tracked over twice by Leia & Soren during the past few days. She had directed Soren to every location imaginable, the materials used in construction, the costs, the people involved, his list went onward. In addition, the Alliance had requested she be present while Soren poured over all the Alliance books, accounts, budgets and forecasts, explaining their long term goals and cash flow.

There was no getting away from it. If Soren did not ask for her time, the Alliance leaders were more than willing to volunteer her, assuming she would readily accept because of their shared heritage and previous friendship.

It had been nostalgic catching up, even if conversations with him usually included Alderaan. They talked of the surviving refuges from Cassamasi Remnant, her old friend Ylenic It'kla. Soren's recollections of her Uncle Raymus actually made her laugh at one point. Yet, somehow it always left her feeling disheartened and alone, as if she had been pushed back a step in her efforts to coexist peaceably with the trauma.

Playing tour guide was not the issue, nor were the piles of briefs stacking up on her desk in the interim. Her entire persona in the Alliance was being under minded. If the Alliance council saw her only capable of playing hostess, what future role did she hope to achieve? There was more to her mind than just polite graciousness in the face of political ambition.

She still had not heard from Han.

It was early afternoon; the main conference room only half full of its normal crowd. Once again the princess was with Soren while several key Alliance members sat a few rooms away discussing budget constraints. It would be a very listless meeting, no doubt. But she longed to be there regardless. She was weary of Soren's presence.

A map of Coruscant's capital city lay on the center table. She had marked out several buildings as possibly housing areas for Alliance members. "Soren, how is the Alliance supposed to occupy all these buildings? Are the previous tenants simply planning to leave?"

He leaned close, dark curls spilling on his forehead, his body hovering over Leia's. "No. We've talked to them about relocating. We've debated costs, compensation, that type of thing."

"But…you haven't pledged a specific amount? This could cost us a fortune."

"No, I was waiting for you to return and the two of us could negotiate those terms."

She nodded, uncommitted to the proposal.

The map's details were so absorbing to the princess that she did not register Soren's contingence until his hand covered her own, moving her stylus until it rested several blocks to the north. "Here is where I am planning to build the Alderaan memorial. It's a beautiful spot. I'll take you there when we get back."

She looked up, half exasperated that he had brought up their home planet again. "I'd love to see it. But I doubt I'll be returning to Coruscant until most of the Alliance members have already transferred."

He looked unfazed. "You must serve on the committee with me. They would love you."

She stood, tactfully disengaging her hand and moved to the other side of the table. He followed. "That is kind of you to offer. I'll have to give it some thought."

"They are all survivors of Alderaan you know. It would be wonderful for you to be amongst your own kind again."

Before she could speak, he gently pulled her closer. "Leia, look at me. I know you. We come from the same type of people, remember? I know what everyone expects of us. Just like I know your father would have wished to see you lead not only in the Alliance but also the New Republic."

"Would he?"

"I cannot imagine a better man than you father. You know he was especially concerned that you be taken care of."

She stumbled over her words, shocked at his conclusions. "I am…I'm sure he might have considered those things, but I still-"

"Look at who we are. Look at you! Royal blood flows in your veins. You belong in the New Republic, in the new High Council. The people we associate with should only be the highest caliber of people."

"But I do." She was finding her voice fast. "These people, this Alliance holds some of the most genuine, hard working, sincere individuals I have ever encountered."

"There is more in store for you, I guarantee it."

Icy cold panic flowed through Leia. Thousands of contradictions spun in her mind, the least of which was the annoying reality that Han might have been right about Soren. She realized her arm was still resting in his grasp.

"Thank you for the warm outlook." She stepped back. "But excuse me, I've got a hundred things to complete before the briefing with Mon Mothma."

He bowed slightly. "I'll see you there."

_Highest caliber of people… _

She spun on her heels and almost ran out the opposite doors. The chrome and white hallways milling with commanders, lieutenants and aides seemed almost invisible as she stormed past them, head bent, frame almost accentuated forward, hurrying towards nowhere in particular. She contemplated calling Luke, but explaining the particulars to a friend – her brother – who knew only half the story seemed too exhaustive and inefficient.

_Royal blood flows through your veins…_

Pushing the double doors open, she started running further into the green foliage and forest until her subconscious told her she was past all Alliance surveillance cameras. She kept moving, jumping over small brooks, clearing fallen logs, not bothering to wipe the splattered mud off her pants.

Eventually she stopped in a small clearing, her breath catching up in gasps. A gigantic mossy log covered her path. The ground was still damp from the morning mist, but she barely registered the seeping wetness.

_Her father's approval…_

Why had he said those words? Had he any idea of the weight of approval that clung to her shoulders, bearing down on her thoughts, her actions, her desires? Bail's death did nothing to lesson the awareness she felt of his presence, the whisperings of continued guidance beyond the veil of her life. She had never spoken of it to anyone, least of all Han. It was not just his skepticism she anticipated, it was her own. There was no evidence or tangible proof, just a feeling.

It was undisputed that Bail had wanted her to marry, and marry well. But he had never specified if that station involved material, social, political wealth, or something beyond. He had never broached the subject with her, so she was left to rumors and conclusions loosely based around his principles. She would have liked to believe he wanted a good match with common convictions, friendship…love.

Would she really forsake a marriage based solely on her father's approval? Would she not?

Soren's other barb stuck. Why did she need someone to take care of her? Intuitively she had understood everyone else's plans for her. Whisperings behind closed doors, organized outings, arranged meetings, matching up potential prospects all with the desire for later dependency.

Did her persona broadcast weakness and frailty? Would companionship at some point mean hindering her physical abilities, as if the relationship would eventually become another millstone around her neck, requiring a stronger individual to take up the slack?

The notion was frightening.

Her hair was tight around the scalp and she struggled to loosen the braids. She would never know peace, never experience true freedom. There would always be more responsibility, further systems to save, more pressure to follow in the footsteps of a beloved father whose genetic makeup mirrored nothing of her own. And she felt alone, a loneliness so immense – so black and terrifying – that in that ultimate moment she stood in mercy at the edge, peering down into a dusty and deserted immortality. Her scream wailed through the trees.

In time Leia came back to herself. The noise of an occasional bird, the rustle of the breeze pushing tree branches together suddenly became audible. Smells became more poignant: humid mossy smells, leafy green vapors mixed with the scents of exotic flowers. Her hands were still clenched in her hair.

The last time she had been alone in these dense forests were the brief moments after her accident with the speeder, when she had met the Ewok. She had felt lonely then. The trees had hovered in their omniscient way, giants amongst everything else. Now it was different. They were part of her, a resonating force encouraging her, pushing her on in spite of the difficulties ahead.

The sunlight was warm against her fingertips, even though the depths of the glen were hidden from its rays. She had grown to love this place. Even that crucial evening, where she had divulged Luke's discovery to Han, the thicket had been filled with the rare perfumed scents of these flowers. Han had pulled several from their stems, scattering the petals…

_Luke's_ discovery?

Then it came to her, crashing down in clear, rushed lucidity. Luke was never the first one. Bail had known. He had always known. Her parents had understood her true heritage, her blood line, and had loved her in spite of it.

Just like Han.

She began rushing back to the base, warmth filling her soul. Han knew everything about her, every rough edge, cold cliff and depressing chasm that was her life and loved her in spite of it. _I'm such a fool_. Everything was so obvious now. It had always been translucent, she just hadn't seen it. There were corners and prisms within her even Bail would never know, but Han had unearthed those years ago. _Gods help me if anything happens to him. _

The sunshine was now spilling around her face, her hair gleaming with copper skeins. The weightlessness of freedom sang through her body. She would never fear her family's disapproval again.

**PART IV**

Han walked down the ship's ramp, the hair on his neck standing up. He pulled his blaster and nudged Chewie, "Stay alert."

Fog from the swamp crept up towards their feet, circling and spreading the rancid fumes of stale water. It was late afternoon on the planet and Han was grateful they were not meeting this contact in the dead of night. He could barely see anything surrounding his ship.

Before landing, the _Falcon's_ sensors had verified life forms, but any attempt at contact came back as white noise. He was not surprised. The transmitted code Soren had given the Alliance only provided landing coordinates, and they were sketchy at best. He felt like an exposed giant space slug in the middle of a valley with the enemy looking down.

The perimeter seemed secure so Han moved deeper into the forest. Roughly 500 meters from the clearing stood a large, stone hill, an island of grey rock in a sea of green. His gut feeling was to go there. If anything, he could scale the rock and survey the area.

Chewie growled at him and grabbed his crossbow.

"I'm thinking the same thing pal. Let's go."

Hours later, they emerged at the base of the rocky ridge. They were wet and perspiring from the humidity that clung to the air and dripped from the encroaching tree limbs. Nothing about the bank indicated a plausible meeting place.

A flash of something reflective caught their attention. Chewie barked to Han and started towards the side of the hill. Han ran forward, "Wait Chewie, get down!"

He jumped on the back of Chewie, bringing him down just before a bolt of light singed over their heads. Chewie went down hard, Han on top and the two rolled through a depression in the growth. The blaster came loose from Han's hands as the two tumbled even further down the wet vegetation, over and over, coming to rest in a slimy crevice, brimming with water.

Pushing aside the pain, Han was instantly up, boots halfway filled, scanning the edge of the ravine for any sign of the sniper. He spent precious minutes scrutinizing his surroundings trying to locate his blaster but to no avail. They were in trouble.

Chewie growled, struggling to get to his feet, his crossbow tangled with weeds.

"Hurry up Chewie, we need to move." Even before the words left his mouth he knew it was too late. The sound of Chewie's warning snarl reached his ears just as the blunt of something hard came crashing down on the back of Han's head. He was out cold.

**PART V**

His vision was blurry and everything about him was sore, especially his head. The smells of the swamp reached his nose bringing the fresh memory of the ambush back to him. Sitting up too quickly, he felt a wave of nausea hit him and he fell flat on his back. He started over, this time taking surveillance of his surroundings. His hands and feet were tied. He was stretched out on a cold, rocky surface. It was some type of cavern, no doubt buried within the mount they had seen outside. He struggled slowly into a sitting position and spotted Chewie across the room.

His call did nothing to rouse him. Scooting his way across the floor, Han looked him over, releasing pent up breath when he felt Chewie's heartbeat.

Suddenly the door opened and Han shifted towards the entrance. Their captor was definitely amphibious, with gills on each side and two fins on the back. The glassy eyes had him questioning if he was dealing with smugglers or some native race of Eosphorus.

Reaching down, the creature brought out a jagged knife and sliced Han's feet free. "On your feet vermin!" The slimy voice sounded like it was under water. "You're wanted for questioning." He pushed the knife against his back. "Just keep in mind I'd rather kill you now. But I need my reward."

Han stood up, swaying slightly until he got his bearings. "What about the Wookiee?"

The creature smiled. "He'll be fine for now. A good shot of tranquilizers will work wonders. Get moving!"

The cave corridors were dark, damp and treacherous with sharp stalactites protruding from every corner. As Han carefully maneuvered his way around the slippery rocks, he calculated his options. He could probably shove the fish with his elbows and get away with minor markings. But he could not leave Chewie and there was not a shot in hell he could carry the big animal, especially to his ship.

He moved towards the lighted room at the end of the tunnel. Inside four creatures of various species lined the perimeter. Massive blasters were slung around each of their shoulders. In the center stood a crudely made table that held a small box, an ancient bronze pipe, a bottle of vintage, several decanters and Han's beloved blaster. A tall, wiry man with dirty blond hair and a rusty cloak stood behind the rock slab, his expression astonishment when Han walked in.

"Captain Solo! You old bugger…I guess my spies were right when they said a Wookiee was outside. There's only one man I know who could have such a companion."

A shaded smile reached Han's eyes. "Simeon."

"What are you doing here old chap? Transferring another cargo load no doubt."

"I could ask you the same thing."

He waved the question aside as he reached for the bronze pipe and sat down. "Oh, I'm just heading up some cheap job for the Council. Hey, what's this I heard about you? There were rumors floating around the Empire had killed you."

"Obviously not."

"Doesn't that always seem to be the case with you? Not sure when you're good luck will run dry." He motioned to a rough stump of a boulder across the table. "Sit down, sit down. Care for a drink? I'm afraid Ruftic might have left you with a nasty bump."

Solo sat, casually draping his arms across his legs, surveying the others around the room. "No thanks."

Simeon followed his gaze. "Oh, allow me to make introductions. That's Ruftic over there, Stalla, Winson, Telec, and that gentleman who brought you in is Apogon."

Han nodded. "Gentlemen."

Simeon leaned forward, tucking his arms and hands against the edge of the table, the pipe tight between his lips. "So, you out on some job again for old Jabba, eh?"

"Not exactly. I'm surprised you haven't heard. Jabba's dead."

"Bloody hell." Simeon set the pipe on the table. "That poor scout was right. But he said it was a woman who did him in so none of us believed him. What was it, one of his dancing girls finally come to take her revenge?"

"In a way." Han's eyes glazed deadly. "The bastard got what he deserved."

"Well, I guess that frees you up now, doesn't it? How long do you think you'll be here on Eosphorus?"

"Not sure. You said you were here on some job for the High Council?"

Simeon picked up the bottle and poured himself a glass, swirling the contents in his hand, "Just here to kill some poor bloke from the Rebel Alliance. Miserable pay, but what can you expect?"

Han kept his voice calm and disinterested. "Yeah, we've both been there. But I thought the Council had been disbanded?"

"Uh…no." He gave him an odd look. "A scatty bunch of them were assembled quite rapidly really, right after the emperor was done in."

"Tough job." Han stood and stretched with all the luxury of a man with shackled hands. "Well, I'd better get moving. I'll grab Chewie and we'll get out of your way."

The clicking of blaster target points stopped Han. Every smuggler in the room had withdrawn their weapons and stood ready to fire, Simeon the picture of smug calmness.

"See I'd love to let you go old chap, but there is still the um…terrible coincidence that your ship just happened to land at the exact coordinates I sent to my contact. And the thought occurred to me why would Captain Solo, one of the keenest smugglers I've ever known, land in such a blatantly exposed location on a planet he's probably been to half a dozen times?"

Han smiled. "What is this? Are you saying I'm your target man?"

"Well it definitely would appear that way, wouldn't it? And I could be an old lag here and disregard the whole coincidence as bad luck on your part. However, that very informative scout I was just talking about also mentioned the woman who killed Jabba was an Alderaanian princess. Now the only princess I know who survived that fluke is Princess Leia Organa with the Rebel Alliance. Now what would a bird like her be doing on a dodgy planet like Tatooine with the likes of you?"

Solo walked slowly towards Simeon, placing his tethered palms on his desk, lowering his voice, keeping the smile plastered to his face. "What do you want?"

"I suppose it all boils down to money. It's quite a shame to have to kill you but we are ever in need of funds, eh?"

Han closed his eyes, half laughing as he pushed himself up from Simeon's table. He turned around, carefully studying each of the armed creatures. "That's why I'm here. You would have killed me hours ago if it had just been about getting your money." The stump of a rock was infinitely more comfortable this time as Han relaxed on its rough corners. "You think I can offer more. Don't you…_old chap_?"

Simeon grinned. "Bloody brilliant you are Solo, for a smuggler."

**PART VI**

The night air on Endor howled, crashing shaky limbs of trees against the princess' window. Inside, she paced the cold floor, awake and anxious for Han, her eyes scanning the dark sky. _Where are you? _The inky blackness concealed the usual illuminated star-lit sky, answering with rumble and destruction. She feared it was all a terrible omen.

After her personal resolution in the grove, she had anxiously tried to contact the _Falcon_ through the Alliance Command Center. No response. Hours later, while she sat through presentations outlining the proposed leaders for the interim council on Coruscant, she suddenly felt the stirrings of an image, a whisper, a feeling without any direct communication that centered entirely on Han. He was in pain. She had bolted from her seat, drawing the eyes of almost everyone in the room, even causing the speaker to pause in his points. She excused herself and quickly left.

The perceived illumination was familiar, breathing through her body like the voice of Luke when they were escaping Cloud City. Skeptical though she was, she had almost crossed the forbidden line of belief the night Luke had confessed their shared parentage. Even now she still felt naïve, inexperienced, even hesitant to contact her brother.

She had spent the night in the Command Center, working out various locations, scoping the landing coordinates Soren had given Han. They were impossible to compute. She could not fathom how he had found a destination based on such inadequate numbers.

The early morning hours felt heavy and wasted. Leia was frantic and slightly skewed from lack of sleep. On a desperate risky vein she transmitted several coded comms to an infamous smugglers station, several light years from Endor. She also left messages with the temporary Alliance center on Coruscant for Luke. Both actions were ineffective at best, but they helped beat down her buried suspicions that perhaps Han had left by choice. And that all her musings were just emotional baggage and inventions.

She did not know which alternative she wanted most.

The knock on her door shook Leia from her thoughts. "I'm…I'm coming." She grabbed her discarded robe, hastily secured it. Her spirits rose beyond her control. _It's Han! He's home. He's safe. _We're_ safe._

Soren's figure stood tall, looming over the door frame, his breath coming out in a rush. "Leia, I'm glad you're still awake. We need to talk. Can I come in?"

She rubbed her eyes, frustrated for allowing her hopes to soar in such ridiculous anticipation and despising Soren for choosing such an hour to knock. "Right now? Can this wait until tomorrow?"

He stepped in, activating the door behind him, his presence filled the room. "I won't be here tomorrow. My ship is leaving at 0400."

"Your ship? Where?"

"Back to Coruscant. I'm needed there immediately."

"Oh." She crossed her arms over the robe. She could not help feeling slightly elated with the news. Han had perceived within ten minutes of acquaintance what it had taken Leia several days to confirm. "Well, good luck with everything. I'll contact you with any follow up issues."

He peered down at the princess. "Come with me."

"What…what did you say?"

He did not let her withdrawal deter him. He moved closer until her back brushed against the wall. "I have spoken with the High Council and they have an immediate need for you. We will be working together for the unification of the galaxy and the memory of Alderaan. Just think, Leia."

She suddenly realized how much she hated when he addressed her by her first name. "I wish you had spoken to me first before you made the effort. I appreciate the offer, but my place is here."

He laughed lightly and placed his hand against the wall, curving her closer. "Believe me, I understand the importance of your Alliance, and I promise we'll have time for that when we get there. But your place is destined to be with me."

Her jaw dropped, completely stunned and at a loss for anything credible to say. He took advantage of her silence, leaning down to place kisses along her neck, her chin, up towards her lips. She came back quickly, shoving him away, disgust itching through her skin like flitterflies.

"What do you think you're doing?"

His pursuit did not falter, his smile ever constant. "This is fate Leia. I know your father would want you taken care of by a person of reliability and stature, someone he would approve of." His laugh disgusted her. "This has practically been planned since your birth."

Sensing the inevitable edge of his will, Leia maneuvered to the opposite side of her bed, slowly. "My father?"

"Absolutely. Before I left he was telling my mother everything he wanted for you. The money, the position, the power, everything my family would enhance for you."

She was closer. Leaning over the bed, sliding her hand near the pillow, she could almost grasp the weight in her palm, all the while keeping her eye on Soren.

He only saw her movements as invitations. His breath was too sweet and musky, fawning over her face, making her want to gag. "My seductive princess, I have finally come for you. And don't let your loss of virtue concern you. We all make mistakes." His hand reached for her calf, sliding higher. "I do not know under what pretences he seduced you. None of that matters. I will teach you about passion."

She was quick, smooth and deadly accurate. The blaster's tip was icy cold against his throat. "Step back Lord Eifler, and refrain from making any more promises that have no chance in hell of being fulfilled."

It was now Soren's face that turned pallor, disbelief reaching his eyes. Still his voice remained calm. "Give that to me Leia. You don't want to do this." He smiled again. "Do you know how long I've been in love with you?"

"Yes, well, the feelings are not mutual." She pushed him forward, causing him to trip back over a chair, sprawling to the ground. "Get out. In future negotiations another representative of the Alliance will be working with you."

He struggled to his feet, pushing the curls back from his face. "But you cannot be in love with this smuggler! He is not worthy of you."

"You know nothing of my heart and I have no intention of enlightening you."

"Perhaps not, but I know your heritage." He stood tall again, appearing to regain a final shred of pride and debate. "Your bloodline demands a worthy match."

She seemed to hesitate, to shuffle how to reply. He saw his chance and moved to grab the princess. Scuffling ensued, she fought him, ripped at clothing, dug nails into skin, anything to keep the blaster out of his reach. They fell to the floor, her legs kicked beneath him. His hands clamped down over her mouth, stifling her screams. As he turned his head to wring the blaster from her hand, she bit his ear. He howled, leaned back for the briefest of seconds, allowing her the chance to pummel the left side of his face with her weapon.

He collapsed next to the princess, shrieking in pain. She was free, instantly on her feet and backing towards the door. "Get out!"

Soren clutched at his bloody cheek, his cut eye and struggled to stand. As he hobbled to the open doorway he turned to look at Leia, staring at her with bloodshot eyes, wild hair. But before he could utter any final remarks she slid the door shut, locking it securely. She felt his body slam against it, his fists beating against the panel. For seconds she worried over the tensile strength of the door and then it was over. She could hear the padded footsteps walking away.

Tossing the gun to her bed, she yanked a bag from her closet and started packing. She was going to have to explain all this somehow, in the most political neutral way possible. But that would have to wait.

She refused to sit here any longer, fearing the absolute worst. Han's instincts had been right about Soren. It seemed inconsequential now if her fears had yet to be realized. How much more time did he need? Either way she would find out.

14


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

**PART I**

The darkened meat tasted dry and bland, requiring several minutes to chew between bites. Han had moved the _Falcon_ to a more secluded location, taking advantage of an already existing – though crumbling – landing structure that surrounded the base of the ramp. The one room shack barely held itself together with cement and wood tethers. When the heavy rains started pounding the roof, he was not surprised to see several leaking drips instantly appear. It was not ideal, but it worked. For all his bravado, he was not about to let Simeon or any of his gang aboard his beloved ship. Any last minute negotiations would take place in this crumbling shack.

The one redeeming feature was the center fire pit and now the heavy flames brought a calming sense of warmth through Han's body. The night air actually smelled pleasant with the storm. He sat on a decaying log bench and picked at his food.

Simeon had issued them invitations for dinner with his crew, and Han had tactfully declined. Soren – or whoever else was involved with this scheme – had underestimated the true nature of smugglers, something Han knew all too well. Bargaining his life for some up front preliminary funds with a few bits of necessary information thrown in for good will, he had every intention of getting off Eosphorus as soon as possible. He would have been in light speed right then and there but he needed his co-pilot, and Chewie was once again dead asleep in his hammock, still working through the effects of the tranquilizer.

Han took several swallows from the bulbous ruby bottle, the one saving grace of his meal. The vintage was pulled from the _Falcon's_ deep storage in honor of Han's narrow escape. His good luck and the reliable weight of his blaster – safely returned – still managed to stick with him.

He nearly dropped the plate of food when several hard knocks thundered against the door. Since a further knock in itself could have easily brought down the door, Han was not altogether concerned the potential guest was hostile. Regardless, the blaster was in his hands as he moved towards the door.

Assuming it was Simeon, Ruftic, anyone else on the planet, he was speechless to find his soaking, wet princess standing before him, clutching her arms, braids of hair coming undone around her face, a pack at her feet. He simply stared.

Leia's shaky voice could barely be heard above the rain, "Han, can…can I come in?"

He bolted out of his daze and was instantly pulling the petite woman inside, his hands rubbing vigorously up and down her arms. "You're soaked. Come stand near the fire. There's some blankets in the corner. Damn! Get these clothes off." He held her towards the fire, pulling ties on her shirt, pushing down chinos, his hands impersonal.

She shook with cold and the elation of warmth in Han's hands. Business as they were, she soaked in his tenderness and care, wanting to weep that so many issues stood between what should have been a more affable reunion.

Her teeth chattered as he wrapped her into a soft, burgundy blanket and placed into her hands a cup of steaming liquid. "Thank you." She sat down near the pit, her collarbone and shoulders glistening in the firelight.

Han paced, returning food containers to buckets, throwing wet clothes over a dry log. He found himself looking back and forth, surveying his surroundings, wondering if there was anything else he should be doing. Finally he crouched down on the other side of the pit, staring into the fire, thoughts of his rough meat and savory wine long forgotten. Stillness moved between them. Neither one glanced up.

He fished up a long stick with his right boot and poked it into the fire. "So how exactly did you get here? Should I be worried about an Alliance ship docked somewhere?"

"Transport shuttle. They sent me down in -."

"In a POD, got it." He turned a log over in the fire, lapsing back into solitude.

Leia looked into her mug, realizing in her haste to reach him she had never considered what she would say when she found him. "Han…I…I…should have trusted your instincts."

He leaned back, bringing the bottle with him. "Ah….so it appears dear Lord Soren actually made a move. How was it?"

She stared at him, desperately trying to read his intentions. "I did not reciprocate if that's what you're worried about."

"Nah, only curious."

The sarcasm stung right where he thought it would, though deeper than he suspected. The fire hissed and sparked, sending her deeper into the blanket. Try as she could, she failed to sense which end of the revenge spectrum he had decided to seize. She took another sip of the spicy liquid, yearning for peace of mind, or something that would separate herself from Han's sarcasm.

He kept his eyes on the ground. "So why are you here?"

"Isn't it obvious? I had to find you. I had this feeling –"

"Wait." He pointed his palm in her direction. "Did he hurt you?"

"No."

He nodded, pushing the remainder of his stick into the fire. Taking a quick swig from the bottle he gestured towards her. "And how did you reply when he spoke of the great ancestry and heritage you have that demands you only associate with lofty and important people?"

She was too late to cover the dumbfounded tremor that spread over her face. Of course he would know exactly what Soren would say. She may have certain talents when it came to negotiations, but Han was more subtle. His keen insights and quick observations were sometimes surprisingly accurate.

"Well…you and Luke are the only ones who know who I really am. And I don't know if that entitles me to anything."

"Answer the question."

She had no intention of telling him about the blaster. "I made it clear he did not understand anything he was talking about."

"Well, sounds like you wrapped that one up nicely." His indifference hardened as his fingers lightly flipped the bottle. "And what do we do when this happens again?"

"Again?"

"The aristocracy sticks to each other like Kesselian manowars. It's happened before, it will happen again."

She swallowed, taking time to digest his words. "You're right. It will. There is nothing I can do to stop people's opinion of my empty inheritance of obligations. But I won't let them dictate my life."

He glanced around, yawning and scratching his neck. "It can sure make it feel like hell to those around you."

She stood up, furious with herself for playing his game. "You're drunk."

"Not even close. But the night is young."

"Fine. Enjoy your evening. I shouldn't have come here. I guess I thought…I don't know what I thought. Honestly, I didn't even know if you'd still be around by now." She walked towards the ramp, fighting the heartbreak within her.

He watched her go, self loathing pulling at the edges of his skin. He despised feeling this way, this jealousy for things – for people - beyond his control. She had come for him, again. It should be enough, but it failed to erase his reservations.

And yet, he knew his princess was just as guilty. He wanted to shut out all her misgivings with fervent and sincere reassurances. But he knew they were as empty to her as her promises were to him.

Ever since they had known each other, even since his escape from Tatooine, their well concealed uneasiness hovered on the edge of complete disclosure. It was during times like these they were forced to quietly acknowledge there was no secret at all. Both of them would not believe the other.

Han threw the bottle into the fire and stormed after her.

**PART II**

The hot water cascaded over Leia, bringing a small sense of tranquility to her soul. Han had long ago installed a fresher head tall enough to configure his lengthy frame. With her body in his place, it felt like a gushing waterfall.

She silently cursed her impulse of rushing to Han's side. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, perhaps more so without her. Her earlier vision seemed entirely the result of some hormonal flux within herself and not some strange religious instinct. In either case, she felt exposed and embarrassed to have come so far for nothing.

Closing her eyes, she stretched upwards, allowing herself one last moment under the rushing warmth. Then his hands were on her, sculpting her, moving with haste. She could have been on the other side of the galaxy and she still would have recognized his hands. She knew their texture, their rhythm. Her heart tripped against her ribs, then bounded into her throat as he drew aside her wet web of hair and placed kisses along her exposed neck.

His demanding caresses awakened her own arousing fever, her body pliant in his arms. But his bitter remarks had left her too muddled to respond. She jabbed back with her elbows and turned to face him, but he only pulled her tighter, covering her mouth with his. His hands were rougher than usual, dominating and demanding. Leia could taste the honeyed wine on his mouth, the wild edge of his touch. Still she struggled.

Oblivious to anything but his need for the princess, Han pushed her against the fresher wall. His mouth descended lower, lapping up the water on her skin, feeling the fleeting brush of her bare skin against his chest. He heard his own breathing, rasping against his heart.

His fears threatened to close off his reasoning, his balance, but with Leia in his arms his wariness would diminish, if only temporarily. He heedlessly sought refuge and indulgence, unaware of her arms pushing heavily against him.

She twisted and finally managed to slide down the slick wall backing away from him, holding her palm flat between them. "Han, stop!" At his confused look Leia seethed, stomping her foot on the tile floor, "Why do men think they can just push me around?"

His eyes turned wide, dawning with comprehension. He grabbed her shoulders. "You said he didn't hurt you."

"It doesn't matter."

"Like hell it doesn't!" He wiped the water from his eyes, looking out past the fresher screen. "I'm gonna kill him."

She moved from his grasp, turning to leave. "Please. You've done enough already."

The steam permeated the air in thick clouds, almost obscuring the pair from each other. He moved quickly – gently – catching her fingers, sliding their palms together, pulling her back under the warm sprays. His eyes were soft, understanding.

"I'm sorry."

"That doesn't fix anything."

"I know." He pushed back her wet hair, combing through the strands. "But I love you anyway."

He moved to kiss her, nothing demanding, nothing tempestuous, but instead everything she needed right now. And she needed him – his tender passion and fervency, his soothing entreaties. Leia surrendered and welcomed him with her touch, with her kisses.

As his hands smoothed down her body, his eyes followed; his inspection both erotic and deliberate. He noticed a few bruises on her hips, red marks on her wrists. The Corellian male inside raged. His fists tightened possessively over her skin at the thought of another man doing harm to his princess. He hadn't been there to help her. Then he saw his own fingerprints on her upper arms and he groaned at his carelessness. He kissed each shoulder, rubbing the marks away, cursing his own blindness.

The water mixed across them, warmed further by the heat radiating off their skin. It was cleansing, forgiving, allowing each of them time to breath the same air as they nuzzled into each other.

Han wanted her, was breaking in half to possess her, but he waited. Waited until he felt her desperate shiver, her delicate calf muscle stretch as she pushed up on tiptoe, her chin tilted back in savoring pleasure, her eyes closed. Then he took her, lifted her back against the cool fresher panel, his hands gentle, but firm on her hips. His entrance was smooth and swift, rewarded by the delicate arch of the princess' back into his chest.

She lifted her face to feel the pounding rhythm of the sprays, matching the movement of the strong man holding her. She was anxious to find his eyes, his reassurance, but his head was bent to her shoulder. She cradled his head, stroked her fingers through his wet hair until his mouth covered hers. His eyelashes against her skin, his hard breath on her mouth, she was hungry for him, anxious to voice her pleasure, her devotion. But the wounds were too fresh, and she hesitated to reveal too much. So she fell back to her native tongue, whispering Alderaanian phrases in his ear.

He was not familiar with the dialect, but the tones of her pleasure meant everything to him. He gifted her confession with deeper strokes, keeping one hand cradled at her hips, his other tracing down over her belly between her legs.

She paused on a high pitched intake of breath and went soaring over the edge. And then he let go. He angled her hips and drove harder, deeper, crashing over her name in a barely audible whisper. It was music to her ears.

**PART III**

Later they lay tucked under his comforter together in the semi-darkness. Legs nestled into one another, scratchy hair against smooth. Rain continued to pound against the _Falcon's_ roof, rhythmical, soothing, luring the occupants into restful peace. She shivered as he ran a continuous loop with two lazy fingers up her bare arm and shoulder, tracing downwards over her neck, her breast.

"You and me…We've known each other too long to know better than to trust completely."

She looked up, hesitant to end their tentative peace. "Han, we don't have to talk about this - "

"You still think I'm gonna leave."

She slowly acquiesced, nodding. "And you?"

Several moments of silence slipped by before he answered. "You fell in love with a guy like me. It kind of boggles the mind."

She could not recall a time where they had been more honest with each other. It was perplexing. Of course admitting their feelings to each other was an equitable memory in comparison. Though she was quite certain neither of them had struggled in their confession as much as they did now. Admitting personal weaknesses, exposing insecurities left them both uncomfortable, vulnerable.

Finally she spoke. "What do we do?"

"I have no idea."

"I'd like time." At his sharp look she placed a reassuring palm to his chest. "Time with you. Our schedules these days are not exactly beneficial."

"Yeah, I was thinking about that on my way here."

"And?"

"I didn't come up with much. Sorry." He leaned back, placing his hands under his head.  
"But you really weren't my favorite person at the time."

She chewed her bottom lip. "What about now?"

His arm came out to snag her close, kissing her forehead, "You're definitely back up in the rankings."

They cuddled beneath the sheets, taking brief consolation in each other's whispered promises. Eventually sleep overtook them and their dreams mingled erotic, sensual landscapes tainted only by dark colors of disbelief which neither could escape.

**PART IV**

"It's good to see you up and about Chewie."

He rubbed his hand over Leia's head, barking his objections.

"I completely understand. Of course you could have taken them all down if Han hadn't jumped on you like that."

He howled until he saw Han in the foreground, leaning against the panels, socket-wrench swinging from his right hand.

"Did he mention that I also saved his worthless ass?"

She arched an eyebrow. "But wasn't it Chewie who first saw the sniper in the clearing?"

Chewie yelped his agreement, thrilled to have Leia on his side.

"Neither of you have a clue. Chewie was out for most of the time anyway. The Alliance would have saved a few hundred credits if it weren't for this fuzz ball."

Chewie roared, throwing his arms up in the air and stomped off towards the main engines, pushing Han aside as he passed.

Leia smiled and turned back to the scattered crate of flimsies. The transmission slips Han had collected from Simeon had only vague references to a contact with the High Council. There was no direct evidence linking to Soren. Still, the connection with the Alliance, the timing of Han's arrival, and the information supplied by Simeon, there was some hope.

She still could not fathom the extent to which Soren had falsified his story. To make matters worse, she had played his messenger. Her heart sank at the thought of piles of sensitive documents and codes he had been privy to. She prayed they would be able to stop him before he escaped.

She glanced up at Han. He was lounging in the black kevlar chair at the computer station, idly toying with a power cell unit. "Han, are you sure the Alliance received your transmission?"

"No. Space waves are tricky to access from the Sacorrian system, probably why you never could reach me. But I programmed it to resend when we hit light speed."

"Good." She pushed a hand up amongst the masses of her hair, idly beginning to braid. "What if he didn't act alone? You don't think the entire High Council is against us?"

"I don't know if it's so much against us or the potential for money. Think about it, the Empire is falling, new people are coming into power, and Soren saw a jackpot opportunity." He looked at her. "Hey, leave it down. We're not due to sublight until 0300."

"It's driving me nuts." She made one last twist and secured the loop. "But do you think he acted alone?"

"Nope. I think we'll definitely have our fair share of enemies even before we get there."

"I know. I just…hoped it would be more peaceful. You should have seen Coruscant. Everyone was so positive about bringing back a New Republic. The optimism and freedom was intoxicating." She hugged her legs to her chest, resting her face against her knees. "I was being naïve…just like with Soren."

He swung the chair in her direction. "Hey, don't worry. If the Alliance doesn't stop him, he'll still have to look over his shoulder."

"What do you mean?"

He smiled. "Simeon owes me a few favors."

She slowly unraveled, resting her arms on the table. "What did you do?"

"Leia, how many times have I told you? You _do not_ trust a smuggler."

"Even you?" She dared to ask.

"Especially me."

The words were out the same time his mind registered the damage. And then he could not escape it. Her head was slightly bowed, but her eyes met his, leveling Han with her gaze. It was not accusing or bitter, more of a shared comprehension, a mutual understanding. Had he been joking or was there some truth to it all?

Here they were again. Stumbling upon the conversation they had dreaded since leaving Eosphorus. Individually they had worked hard – almost too subconsciously to be subtle – at keeping the relationship status quo. They worked, they laughed, they slept, moving together in a guarded passion, heat and spark, but never catching fire.

They did everything but discuss their buried suspicions of each other, despising it just the same. They were ignorant how to approach. Circumspect if any real solution was plausible. Now it threatened to be laid bare before them again.

Han came to his feet, a great sigh escaping his lips as he rubbed the back of his head. "Hey, that's not what I meant."

She looked skeptical. He unclipped his tool belt, moved to grab her hand. "Come here. There's something we need to do."

She allowed herself to be pulled from around the table. Her uncertainty came through in a light grimace. "I don't think that's always going to solve our problem. And besides this morning was pretty – "

"No, no, no." He stopped and looked back into her face, all grins. "But I'm up for an encore later if you're asking."

They walked to the cockpit, their boots clanking over the metal plates below. He directed her to the pilot chair and stood behind her.

"Now," He brought her hand up to clasp the cold vertical bar at the center of the control panel. "This is the steering gage if you ever want to go manual. You twist down and push in. I usually only fall back to that if we're in a tight jam, like that time we were at Thyferra with the bacta supplies and we – "

"Wait, what are you doing?"

"Teaching you how to fly my ship." He hurried on. "Now listen, this row of switches here are all about engine control. You shouldn't have to worry too much unless she loses her deflector shields, or if the vertical boosters blow again, or if…you know what, let's just save those for later. Maybe we should start with navigation plotting and computer codes."

She withdrew her hand. "But, why are you doing this? Chewie can handle all this, can't he?"

He collapsed into his co-pilot's chair, relaxing his right boot on the panel. He punched a screen into control mode, the glare bathing his left cheek in blue. "Sure, but you know Chewie…he might not always be here."

"And I will?"

The apprehension was almost tangible between them. "Well, that's the real gamble isn't it?"

"Seems like the odds are in your favor."

"Good enough for me."

She threw her head back and laughed. They were definitely doomed if they could not give up such serious introspection and conversation. It was not meant for them. She moved to his lap, settling herself across the seat as his arms adjusted around her, his face buried in her hair as he added. "And besides, if Chewie ever gets tranq'd again, I'm gonna need some help."

**PART V**

All members of the _Falcon_ crew were walking down the ramp just in time to see several Alliance troops escorting Lord Soren Eifler, bound in chains, across the platform to a waiting vessel. Several commanders and generals followed behind. When Admiral Ackbar saw the _Falcon_, he immediately walked over and addressed Han, his spongy voice a welcome sight.

"Ah General Solo, I am sorry we were not able to respond to your transmission. We had trouble reaching your ship. I cannot imagine what difficulties you had to go through on Eosphorus."

"Nothing I couldn't handle. But the cost of the information will not be cheap."

Ackbar brought a webbed hand to his chin and scratched. "Yes I discussed the amount with General Madine. We all agree the price was quite adequate considering how much we could have lost." He paused and looked at Leia. "And how much new information we gained in the process."

Han nodded, moving aside to throw some cargo bags to Chewie.

Ackbar approached the princess. "Incidentally, Princess Leia it appears we might have overlooked your valuable observations from your recent mission to Coruscant. I apologize if we were caught up in the duplicity of Lord Eifler."

"We all were."

"Yes. But we are most eager to remedy the situation and see what can be salvaged. You will play a key role in the directives going forward?"

"Of course."

He began to move away, anxious to join the other commanders. "We'll discuss the details later."

She turned back to help Han & Chewie. Crates, bags and equipment were being loaded onto a mechanical flatbed. All three heads came up when a screeching yell vibrated through the air.

"I'll get you Solo! You and your pet Wookiee will never walk safe again."

Chewie roared an offensive growl. Soren's scowl looked frightening, enhanced by the blackish blue contusion covering the left side of his face. Fighting against his restraints he continued to yell.

"And you, princess, your father would be weeping right now over your loyalties. He would have disowned you long ago. Traitor! Traitor to Alderaan!"

His yelling grew more muffled as they boarded the ship and then disappeared entirely. Leia released a deep breath, grateful that such barbs no longer held stings. Chewie came up from behind, putting his large paw around her shoulders. The three of them watched until Soren's prison transport ship was no longer visible.

"Chewie, will you go back and do one final sweep?"

He waited until the Wookiee was gone before he spoke. "Hey, I forgot to ask. When I asked why you came to Eosphorus, you said you had some kind of feeling? What was that about?"

"Umm…" She was hesitant. "I'm not sure. Maybe an impression. A feeling you were in trouble."

"Me? This time it was about me? I thought only you and Luke could feel things from each other."

"No. I think it extends all around us. Luke told me all living things generate the Force. It surrounds us, penetrates us, it binds us together."

"Binds us huh?" He rubbed his chin. "Never thought I'd like that. But I do."

"It still doesn't explain why I had that feeling. You were hurt, obviously, but nothing life threatening. I don't know if rushing to find you served any direct purpose."

"Hey, don't push it. Might have done more good than we think."

One eyebrow lifted. "General Solo, I thought you said _you_ determined your own destiny."

He seemed contemplative, thoughtful. "Yeah…yeah that reminds me, I've been thinking I should ask Madine for joint assignments with you, or at least missions running at the same time. I've heard of it happening before. Thought it might help improve…things."

"I'd like that."

"The only down part is…reunion sex wouldn't be happening nearly as often."

"Oh yes…that does make it difficult." She bit down on her lip, concern written all over her face. "It could just get plain and ordinary."

He seemed to weigh the options. "I suppose I could get used to that."

"You suppose!"

"What do you say we go find out now?"

Her eyes danced. "Now?"

"What can I say? Just thinking of you punching Soren…it's kind of a turn on."

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about?" His taut smile, slanting sideways look had her laughing, confessing. "To be fair, I had a lot of help from your old blaster."

"The DL-33? You actually pulled it on him."

She nodded.

"Huh. I never would have bet an older model against the DL-55."

"I told you I like them hard, rough and…mature."

He leaned in close, nuzzling her cheek. He didn't want to tell her how much he was struggling to suppress the maddening sweep running through him. In truth, he'd been shocked to see Soren's damaged face. She never would have resorted to something that extreme unless…

He had underestimated Soren's plans, the lengths people like him would go to, and he had every intention of never letting it happen again. "Meet me here later?"

"How about after you talk to General Madine?"

"Listing conditions already, Sweetheart?"

"With you, always."

Chewie appeared, and the two pilots gathered up the last of the light-weight gear. Han gave her a quick wink and walked down the ramp, leaving her alone under the twilight of Endor's giant sky.

She stretched her arms heavenward, contemplating her rich past, grateful for her present. The warmth and flutterings inside carrying her for miles into the future.

THE END

13


End file.
